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Thursday, January 15, 2015

I was wrong

Prepare yourself for some pretty raw reactions from my perspective as a high school teacher. It's been a very hard week for me; you have been warned. This post isn't one where I'm asking for help - instead, I'm trying to express my feelings at this moment as a classroom teacher. :(
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Today was one of the most discouraging days I've spent as a classroom teacher. After 21 years of experience, I thought that very little could surprise me, but I was wrong. My state has started a teacher evaluation system that includes several new components, one of which is called 'Student Voice.' Essentially, each teacher chooses a class to answer some questions about his/her approach to teaching and the students' individual experiences with that teacher in that class. As teachers, we do not have the privilege of knowing what questions are being asked or how individual students respond because the computerized session is administered by another adult in the building and student responses are anonymous. After one of my senior classes participated in the survey back in November, I honestly didn't give it anymore thought. I felt confident that they valued my work and would recognize my efforts and skills. I was wrong. I don't know yet what I'll do in response to these results; for now, I'm simply trying to work through my thoughts/feelings. The scariest part of this for me is that I don't know what else I can give. I'm working incredibly hard and giving so much of myself already that I'm not sure how many changes I can make.

I am wounded by the results. I'm certainly nowhere near perfect, but I've always prided myself on my connections with students. This survey suggests that my relationships need work and my students need more from me; it calls into question my effectiveness in the classroom since I did not perform as well as I expected. Because of this survey, I've begun to question whether I'm delusional about my experiences with my students; I thought that was my strength. There's never been a time in my life when I questioned if teaching were right for me; I inherently knew that this was something I should do with my life. Have I been kidding myself? Am I really not the teacher I thought I was? Should I explore another career path for my life? I know this sounds radical, but I feel as if everything I thought I knew about myself as a professional were a lie. While the student voice survey will likely have little bearing on my job duties or on my overall evaluation (although I can't absolutely be sure since the state is still developing the formula by which I will be measured), that survey has forced me to examine myself professionally.

Every day, you, my students, gather 'round my desk in my personal space to visit, to share, to vent, and to explore. You sit near me because it comforts you; it makes you feel as if you belong to a special group; it allows you to focus on your work instead of your peers; it feels 'fun' to see what's happening up at my desk. You pull up chairs and stools and crowd in close or you pile yourselves and your belongings around the edges of my furniture and camp out, or you hover, shifting from one foot to the next, as you wait your turn to share your thoughts and stories with me. You visit me before school, after school, during lunch, between classes, during clubs, during your other classes when you can get away - all because you feel welcome in my room. My room feels like home to you, even when you don't want to do the work that is required of you. You seek my feedback and my attention, and I almost always give you those things. When you need a hug or a snack or a friendly ear, I'm the one who manages the time and resources to make those things happen. If you're out of lunch money, you come for my help. If you get in trouble in another class, you come to me to tell me what happened. Even if you aren't in my class anymore, many of you stop by every single day to visit and check in and feel like you were a part of my day. Once you've graduated (or not), you come back to visit during the holidays and fill me in on your life. You message me and email me and tweet me to ask questions, and express your opinions, and share your lives with me. We take selfies together, and I cheer for you at ballgames. You ask me for letters of recommendations and job references and life advice, and I gladly provide them all for you. You invite me to celebrate your successes and come to me for comfort when you fail. My room is a refuge for you because you are the reason I am there in the first place.

When you're fighting with your parents or your boyfriend dumps you or your best friend is mad at you, I listen to you with a patient ear - not judging, not lecturing, just listening and offering my insights such as they are. You rarely shock me, but I do worry about you and your choices. I feel the need to remind you constantly to be safe and to think about the consequences of your actions. I interact with you on social media so that I will 'get' your jokes, recognize your influences, and connect with you outside the school day. I share my life with you so that you'll know I care enough to be real. Sarcastic, self-deprecation is something I do best, partly because you appreciate a teacher who laughs at herself. If I don't take myself too seriously, you learn to laugh at your own mistakes and the ironies of life. In my class, it's okay for you to be different, to be independent, to be yourself. In my class, you can disagree with me if you can be polite and use reason. I'm willing to be wrong, willing to change my mind, willing to consider different perspectives - because I want all of this for you. Certainly, my class is no democracy, but you will be heard there. I'm aware that the big personalities can drown out the quieter among you, so I try to include everyone even when you'd rather disappear in the back of the room. I see you for who you could be. I am not an entertainer, but I do try to draw you in with personal stories and current events that make the literature relevant to your life. I laugh with you and tease you and encourage you and shame you and motivate you, most of the time all in a single day. I listen to your ideas, your dreams, your opinions and prompt you to set lofty goals for yourself. I give you second chances, and third chances, and twelfth chances. I allow you to be wrong in a safe place, to explore the big ideas of life, to consider what kind of future you want to create for yourself.

There are days when I have to drag you kicking and screaming through a piece of literature or into a grammar or composition concept. You complain and beg and try to bargain with me so that you don't have to do the work of learning. I hear how your fave teacher doesn't make you do something; I hear how you've worked hard and deserve a break; I hear how none of this will matter in the future; I hear how much you don't care and are sick of school. And yet, every day, I plug along toward an imaginary finish line because it's the right thing to do. I take my professional responsibilities seriously, but, more importantly, I take my duty to you seriously. Some days you argue with me, on others you passively resist by sleeping or talking or playing on your phones. Sometimes you hurt my feelings and mock me blatantly. Sometimes you curse me and challenge me and hate me. There are days when I'm the only one in the room with a clear vision of our goal and the motivation to get there. Have you ever tried to be excited about something for 30 people in a room? It's tough, but I realize that's just part of my role. At times, I question whether you are right, and if I'm the delusional one. Still, I believe in my responsibility as your teacher and move forward for all of us.

I make mistakes. Last week, I accidentally asked you test questions about two poems we hadn't read yet. Today, I stumbled over my words, tongue-tied, as I explained the background of a novel. Sometimes, I get emotional and am overcome by the importance of what I'm trying to do with you. Yes, I even get frustrated and impatient. When I make an error, you are quick to point out my shortcomings. You expect me to be perfect, yet I must accept my many imperfections publicly with grace and humility. I'm supposed to be caring yet objective, focused yet flexible, challenging yet reasonable. I struggle to stay relevant and motivated and reasonable and look constantly for ways to keep my approach fresh. My expectations of myself are much tougher than my expectations of you. True, I expect you to behave and participate and learn; I have lofty goals for you even when you don't have any for yourself.

Everywhere I turn, I am reminded that, as your teacher, I am not enough. Statistics say I'm not teaching you as much as kids in country X. Politicians say that I'm the problem and should be held to higher standards. Businessmen say that I am not teaching you the skills necessary for the workplace. Academia says you aren't prepared for college because I have failed you. Pearson says you aren't performing highly enough on the ACT. My administration tells me my expectations and standards must be incredibly high, but your parents tell me I expect too much. You tell me that nothing I'm teaching you really matters and that you'd much rather play on your phone than learn. The media tells me that your success depends almost entirely on my effectiveness. Popular culture tells me that I'm a societal cliche, a virtual oxymoron. Everywhere I turn, I hear that really anyone could teach; after all, it's not that hard. And I hear that I should be grateful that I have plenty of time off. Almost no one says thank you for choosing a career that matters. Almost no one tells me that he appreciates me. Almost no one tells me that he gets how amazing and how difficult my job is. Almost no one tells me that he was influenced positively by a teacher in his life. Almost no one treats me as a professional. Almost no one recognizes that student success is a joint effort: if the student does not care, the teacher cannot force him to learn. Almost no one offers solutions to the problems that plague our schools. Almost no one praises public education and the efforts of those involved.

I might not get much recognition, but I believe in what I'm doing. As your teacher, I expect big things from you. I'm always cheering for your success, often behind the scenes. I believe that you can do amazing things, and I'd like nothing more than to help you do them. I can't make you like me or my subject matter, but I can teach you the skills and concepts you need to be successful in college or the business world. I can't tell you what to think, but I can teach you how to think. I can't force you to care, but I can care about you. I can't make you learn, but I can offer you lots of opportunities and experiences to foster your learning. I am confident in my knowledge of my subject matter, but I thought my real skill, my real talent, lay in my relationships with students. Today, I learned that I was wrong. Were you mad at me? Frustrated by a test score? Having a hard day? Were you being funny? Playing a joke on me? Being sarcastic? Getting me back for some misdeed? Do you hate me that much? Or did you not recognize how much I'd take this all to heart? Were you sincere and sending me the message that I'm really not the teacher I thought I was?

Today really isn't that much different than any other in the last 21 years. I know the rhythm of my day before it even begins; today, I'll teach three novels, the Industrial Revolution, grammar, and composition. I can predict many of the problems I'll encounter, and I'll troubleshoot them as the day progresses. Unlike yesterday, I'll go to school today with a wounded heart. The other naysayers don't really matter, but you, my students, do matter. You don't believe in me. You don't appreciate my efforts. My confidence is shot. I'm disappointed beyond measure. I thought I was making a positive difference in your lives. I thought I was an effective teacher. I thought our relationships were strong. I thought you respected me. I thought you understood how much I really do care. I was wrong.

23 comments:

I'm a long time lurker and fan of the Scrap Gals from the UK. Not a teacher but I know the stresses and mixed expectations that you have talked about are shared by my friends who teach over here. You have always talked about your work with such enthusiasm and the love for the students shines through. It is clear that you are a thoughtful, hardworking, committed person who gives her all for the students in the stories you share and through the little comments about work in the podcasts. So this must feel like a betrayal. Here's what I am wondering - teenagers are lovely, crazy, intelligent people but they can also be a bit dumb. Suddenly given a new power and it has gone to their head. They were not thinking about their lovely Mrs L but about being given the opportunity to stick it to the Man. And if they realised the consequences - if they read the post above - they would be devastated because they never meant to hurt you like that. I hope the next few days will bring reassurance and love and restore your faith in your students and your abilities. You are worth it.love Lythan

Thanks for the words of encouragement, Lythan. Your kind words helped me get through a tough day; I'm glad you could tell how much I care about my job just based on the things you've heard in the podcast or read on my blog.

I've typed and retyped my thoughts on this, deleted each time as nothing i can say seems right, its heartbreaking and I can't get you out of my mind, I have to write something before I go to bed. I agree so much with Lythan above and I'm so glad you have been able to get this out, not suffer in silence. I hope you can discuss this at work too, put some context into the results maybe. Did they just have to check a box, did they have to actually write examples? I agree its probably more "sticking it to the man" than personal but that must be impossible to accept just now. Its just horrendous to put hardworking, dedicated teachers through this, please get support from family, friends and colleagues, there must be others going through the same thing, some who may be bottling it up, too ashamed or devastated to say anything. I hope no one comes to harm as a result of feeling like you do now, how can anything positive come from this if dedicated, caring teachers feel they need to leave the profession like this.It seems though from what you say you'd noticed no difference in your students between the assessment and results, they choose to be with you out of lesson time, some go to europe with you, visit after leaving, you are obviously well loved by many of them. All I can say is my thoughts are with you, tania

Thanks for your support, Tania. This was a survey based on a series of about 20 questions that had only 5 fairly vague answer categories, so there are no written explanations or breakdown by question. I just have to use this information as best I can and not let it ruin my spirit for teaching. I appreciate your thoughts and kind words more than you know.

I've commented before about what a wonderful teacher you must be based on the students who are always hanging around you after class hours. I still believe that to be true. No student takes fun selfies with teachers they don't like.

It makes me wonder about the survey. Did you get individual responses or an average of all students? Could a few of those who perhaps don't do as well, aren't as outgoing, or possibly jealous of your relationship with other students weigh down an overall superior review?

Jules, the survey was just an overview of a sample group who responded. Only 16 of my 140 students were part of it. It was just a class I thought I knew well and felt particularly close to, so my hurt stems largely from that. I'm sure there were some good reviews, but the bad ones brought down my overall score. I know I won't connect with every student, so I'm just trying to focus on the good relationships that I have formed. I appreciate your encouragement.

I was never one to hang out with my teachers and I'm not sure if half even knew how to spell my name in high school. You sound like an awesome teacher. Hang in there, the world needs teachers that get to know their students.

This post is so heartfelt, the writing so real and raw, it makes my heart ache. As a former teacher I understand how our students can hurt us and how so few people seem to value what makes up a teacher's day/life. Your posts here show clearly that your heart is in your work. I would have loved to have a teacher like you, and there are students who feel that way now (even though the results you were given might not show that). Hang in there---hugs!!!

You really must know what it feels like since you were a teacher too. Thank you for recognizing that I do care about my students and my job. It does help to know that you recognize that in me. Your words helped lift me up a little today, Robin!

I'm so sorry you have been hurt by this. Most teens are probably incapable of really judging how valuable something is to them until time has passed. They'll be sitting in freshman English in college and feeling confident that they can complete the work, while classmates around them are scratching theirs heads. Maybe then they'll realize, hey, Mrs. L. really taught me a lot. Wish I hadn't been PMSing and been harsh on that survey. Maybe it's just because I like you so much (as well as I could possibly "know" you from your ScrapGals podcasts, right??) and don't want to believe that the little ingrates actually meant to be mean to you. Teaching must be like parenting, in the sense that you can't really see the true results of your work for a long time, if ever. You just have to do what you believe in and trust. {{{hug}}} ~ Laura

That's a great perspective, Laura. I have to keep the long-term goals in mind as I go through this now. I appreciate your sweet words at a time when I definitely need to be "built up;" maybe I'll even learn something through what has been a hurtful experience.

I am so sorry you have to go through this. As a parent I want to be involved with my son's school and teacher (albeit he's only in 1st grade). I know many teachers that care deeply about what they do and I believe you are no exception. The sad thing is that parents expect teachers to do everything without having to put any skin in the game, and that's sad. As a society we need more parent/student interaction and not place all of the burden on teachers. The other sad fact is that schools are severely underfunded (which only hurts teachers/students) and teachers are spread thin due to various requirements, testing, etc.

Hang your head high. I had many teachers that didn't give 1/10th of what you give to your students. They may not appreciate it now but one day they will.

Renae, thank you for seeing that I do give my students a lot of myself. You're right, there's so much wrong with the system and so little that is done to correct those endemic problems. I'm especially grateful to the parents who work to do their part and who try to support the efforts of teachers who care.

I just want to publicly say that you are THE smartest person I know and one of the most kind and caring. You must approach this with rationality or you won't be able to let it go. Rationally, the opinions of a portion of a group of 16 children do not reflect your teaching ability or calling. Out of 140 students, I know for sure that this would not be the overall consensus. Kids are by nature self-centered and unemphatic and the survey reflects that. They're "me, me, me" and that's as far as their narrow minded views can take them until they get out in the real world. It's a pity for sure that you've had to suffer this as hard as you work and as much as you give. I have the utmost respect for you as do your colleagues. It's their good opinion of you that matters and you most certainly have it! Love and hugs and kisses from TN.

I consider that one aspect of teaching English is to offer people means to understand and express feelings. It is such a valuable job, and probably the reason your current and former students come to you.There is a French expression for teenage years : "l'âge ingrat". it means lacking grace both physically (being unattractive thanks to puberty) and mentally (being ungrateful).

Tiffany, I just read your post and my heart broke for you. I have listened to the podcast from the start, and your love for teaching & for your students has always shined through. There is definitely something askew in that report - I would have LOVED to have a teacher in high school where I felt I could go to their room and talk with them!!! You are an amazing person - keep on believing in yourself and doing what you do!!

Tiffany, I just read your post and I'm sorry that you are going through this. I agree with Laura. Kids at the age of 17/18 are too immature to realize how someone is affecting their life. It's not until they get a little older that they can reflect back on those who have positively impacted their life. At this age, they are so ego centric that they don't realize how their words affect others. Everything that I have read about you and your classroom tells me that you are a great teacher who really cares about her students. Don't let this shake your confidence. Maybe it would make you feel better to get some feedback from some of your former students who come back to visit. You know yourself and that's what matters. You are a great person.

I did not read all the comments but do agree the kids can be harsh and not even realize it. I just think back to times when I thought my parents were so unfair and when I was so mad at them but looking back, I was the one wrong and now appreciate my parents. My husband is in HS education and I know how incredibly tough the state now is on teachers. He is a coach who used to teach Math but has luckily gotten out of it not because he hated teaching Math but because he hated all the pressure and the testing. One year, he had a group of kids who FAILED a standardized test the year before - He got all of them to pass. However their scores were lower than their predicted scores so he had to go into remediation. It is ridiculous! Anyways, don't let this get you down. I know teachers often are not thanked or appreciated enough - Just remember that you are making a difference although the kids and parents may not see it now. Hang in there!

I did not read all the comments but do agree the kids can be harsh and not even realize it. I just think back to times when I thought my parents were so unfair and when I was so mad at them but looking back, I was the one wrong and now appreciate my parents. My husband is in HS education and I know how incredibly tough the state now is on teachers. He is a coach who used to teach Math but has luckily gotten out of it not because he hated teaching Math but because he hated all the pressure and the testing. One year, he had a group of kids who FAILED a standardized test the year before - He got all of them to pass. However their scores were lower than their predicted scores so he had to go into remediation. It is ridiculous! Anyways, don't let this get you down. I know teachers often are not thanked or appreciated enough - Just remember that you are making a difference although the kids and parents may not see it now. Hang in there!

I know I'm late in replying to this post, but I just found your site recently and I have to comment. I am a child of a father who was in the military and went to night school for years to earn his teaching degree in elementary education then on to his PhD. A man who loves children and taught me that it is our duty and privilege to educate and shape our future generations. I also have a sister-in-law who is an English teacher and a sister-in-law who is a school secretary. There are so many challenges in this field. I thought about becoming a teacher myself, but I knew I was not cut from that material. I know I would have kids hanging from hooks on the wall waiting on their parents to come get them. I'm definitely do not have that kind of patience! LOL! But seriously, I admire you. You shape our children's minds. They may not know it, but if you are THAT teacher, they will remember you. You are the educator, life coach, friend, mother, counselor, father, brother, sister and so many other titles some of these children have never had. I know you know this in your heart. I hope you can see that this is just a little "bump" that doesn't mean a lot to the kids. If they still reach out to you, you are making an amazing impact on their lives for even the short time you are with them, but it will be remembered. I still talk about a teacher that did that for me in high school. I am 47 years old and still love this lady for the simple little life lessons I gained from my time with her. Thank you for your dedication to all of us because these kids will be all of our "leaders" one day. They need people like you who care!